大象传媒

Although I was only eight years old in 1940 I can remember clearly the events of December 12th. We were a family of four living in Sheffield, my father was in the Auxiliary Fire Service at that time and together with my mother and sister we usually had a visit once a week to the local cinema dependant on his duty rota.

The cinema in question was known as the Abbeydale and apart from showing films had a
Ballroom below ground level together with a Billiard Hall. We lived only 5 minutes walk
away and on this beautiful moonlit Thursday evening the film showing was 鈥淓dison the
Man鈥� starring Spencer Tracy and this was to be our night out although we didn鈥檛 realise
how long the night would be!

After queuing for a short while we took our seats at about 6-30 and the programme
commenced with the usual shorts and news. Now at that time it was recognised that all the major industrial areas were targets for the Luftwaffe but it was also apparent that life
had to go on and so cinemas, theatres etc. were open for business but a system of colour
coded alerts were introduced and announcements made on the screen as to what colour
alert, if any, was current. These were primarily for the civil defence workers and I
remember that after quite a short time a purple alert was shown which seemed to signify
that my father who by then was a Company Officer might be required to report for duty
and this was followed by a red alert which meant he had to leave immediately and leave
us to make our way home and take shelter in our reinforced cellar. The time was now
7pm but before we could leave the cinema, the air raid sirens were heard and the
management suggested that it would be prudent for all who did not have to leave to take
shelter downstairs in the Ballroom so our mother shepherded my sister and myself down
below and I remember that we sat on the edge of the stage wondering how long before the
All-clear would be heard.

Local records now tell us that Sheffield heard the sirens 130 times during the war and 16
of these were for actual raids but this was the night when the bombers came with serious
intent.

We were going to get Blitzed throughout the night and although the heavy industrial area
was mainly in the north-east end of the city, the residential areas and city centre shops
were going to be subjected to more than their share of damage. Although it was such a clear moonlit night with exceptional visibility, the bombing run was inaccurate and the southern and central areas were very heavily hit. Throughout the night we sat huddled in
the ballroom with my mother re-assuring us that all the loud explosions were probably
gun-fire and that it was nowhere near as bad as it sounded. However, my sister recently
remarked that we did in fact bounce off the edge of the stage several times as a result of
some of the explosions very close by.

Looking back through sixty years or more I marvel now at the way people behaved while
all hell broke loose outside, no panic, no complaining, just ordinary people determined to
see it through and help each other until we eventually emerged at about 6.am and tried to
make our way home. It was then we saw the extent of the damage. In order to get home
we had to pick our way through streets littered with rubble, passing severely damaged and
demolished houses, water flowing freely from burst mains and still smouldering fires. We
were hoping that we had not been hit and we were lucky but as we approached our house
we were met by an ARP warden or possibly a police constable who told us we shouldn鈥檛
proceed any further as there was a land mine in the next yard and several unexploded bombs in the vicinity which had to be dealt with. Apparently, our church was being use as an emergency centre and we should go there. However, my mother insisted that it was
necessary to collect a few items from home and these were rapidly packed into a suitcase
before we proceeded to the church where attempts were being made to provided some
food and hot drinks.

Eventually, my father was able to find us and as we had relations in Bakewell, he said that he was going to see if we could get there by some means or other for a short while
until the situation was under control and he returned later with the news that there were
some trains running from Sheffield and later that day we managed to board a train for the
16 mile journey. We were on that train all night as for some reason or other it was
shunted into a siding somewhere in Derbyshire and we arrived in Bakewell the following
morning.

It was a good move because Sheffield was heavily bombed again on the Sunday night but
thankfully we were away and after a few days when the bomb disposal unit had cleared
the danger we returned home to find that our school was badly damaged and for some time lessons took place in various homes until such time as the school could re-open.

I suppose that this is a typical story of the time and although I saw the bomb damage at
first hand it was many years later that I saw the roll of honour and appreciated how many
civilian lives were lost that night.

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